The RealLife Situation
by SoraShiro001
Summary: NTarTK, a newcomer team to R6S Pro-League event, somehow clawed their way to semifinal. To make things even crazier, Ubisoft planned something for them. Boy, oh boy, they didn't prepare for this...
1. Pt1: We Meet, We Play, We Won?

**A/N: Good day, readers. I'm a newcomer in fanfiction writing, so please don't be too harsh, okay? The only thing I've owned in this story is ****NTarTK**** themselves. The rest? Ubisoft and R6S communities themselves (Pro-league teams, artists, etc).**

**Most of the foreign parts of the story are roughly translated with Google Translate, making them probably inaccurate.**

**If this story offended you, please message me.**

**Thanks for listening.**

* * *

Defusing bomb was considered as simple for him. Climbing up to the top of his comfortable sniping spot at the front yard, he proned himself and took his trusty sniper rifle with red dot sight and thermal sensor. He saw his other teammates split and went to different ways. His leader activated the nanobots, signing that contact with OPFOR is already made. Taking a deep breath, he aimed at the unfortunate Doc who got detected by his thermal sensor sight and…

_Click._

"**WFox** took down **ion** the first kill for **NTarTK**, heating the last overtime match point moments!"

With a click of his gaming mouse, the crowds gone wild as the Italian player rushed down to another spot of sniping, holding his pistol to run faster. He took another route to the backyard stairs and rushed inside the basement of the familiar snowy Chalet. He crouched and walked slowly into the main stairs, pistol still aimed at his front. But he didn't realize a Valkyrie cam watching over him, as C4 landed in front of him and exploded.

"**Mav** from **FaZe Clan** making another smart decision to watch his cam at the right time." The commentator's voice even louder after Beau opened his noise-canceling headphones. "I mean, look at the C4 throw to **WFox**'s location, it's a perfect one!"

Meanwhile, Renn cursed under his breath as he kept getting Yokai'd. The German player boosted again with the nanobots, making the effect lasted much shorter. He rushed into the Trophy Room, finishing the _arschloch__**[1]**_ who owned the _scheiß__**[2]**_ flying drone.

"And **Polar** strikes down someone from another list, this time **Cameram4n**!" Stated the man once again, audience's cheers getting louder. At the same time, he tripped over a Kapkan trap, downing him. Both of the commentators and the audiences winced, and he felt the urge to slammed his hands to the keyboard, but Beau's pat on the shoulder stopped him. "What a stroke of bad luck he got there, and just as he got a kill too!"

As he held onto the bleeding point of his wound, he heard muffled footsteps from the kitchen hallway. As it's getting louder, he turned on his mic.

"**P1ngu**, you ready?" He asked his teammates who've gotten her hands onto the newly – reworked Lion, Roxie. She hummed, confirmed his question as he got killed with Kapkan's melee.

Lion's drone warning showed up on the top of every player's screen for 1 second, then buzzing down for 2 seconds. All of that is enough because the British player flashed Kapkan from the hole of the Trophy room and headshotted him with her assault rifle.

"Looks like **P1ngu** got **Polar**'s revenge there," the commentator chuckled in amusement, "She got **Yoona** off guard, striking down the **FaZe Clan** shorte-"

Roxie's Lion fell onto the ground dramatically, as Vigil stood up tall from proning, holding his trusty shotgun. But before the masked operator even left the room, Montagne melee'd him with his foldable shield. Renn watched the whole thing happened as quickly as Artyrom's smirk growing on the cams.

Some of the audience shrieked in amazement as both of the commentators couldn't hold their excitement. "What a moment! **astro** got destroyed by the ace of the opponent's team **Husky** as soon as he took down **P1ngu**! Someone, please clip that on Twitch!"

"Stay down _падла__**[3]**_, you've been annoying to me enough." Muttered the Russian player through the mic, while the British player pouted, "What's wrong, _товарищ__**[4]**_? You look disappointed." She shrugged his question and continued to watch him play.

"Last is Valkyrie, rushing down from 2nd Floor to the great room," The silent French player who took Ying as his current operator, Oliver, proned as the last defender ran past him. He threw his candela right at him and sprinted to the blinded last defender, but unfortunately got headshotted by Valk's Deagle. "_Merde__**[5]**_, he's in the dining room. Hurry up, _traînard__**[6]**_!"

Following the French's callouts, he ran out from the kitchen hallway and threw his flashbangs at him, extending his shield. Bright, flashy lights enveloped the room, blinding both of them. 1 vs 1 clutching situation always the one which makes his heart racing like a madman, as adrenaline rushing through his veins and his instinct sharpened. As soon as the flash effect began to fade away, he aimed his revolver at his front and…

_Click_

The audience went wilder than before as he headshotted the last member of **FaZe Clan**, bringing the end of their quarterfinals. Renn and Oliver hugging each other, bawling their eyes out of happiness, while Beau patted his back and Roxy huffed in relief. At this point, they realized something.

They've beaten one of the top-tier R6S Pro-League team with (2:1) on their first debut as a Pro-League Team, making them one of the strong newcomers.

Getting up from the gaming stations, both of the team went down to the stage as all of them shook each of their opponent's hands. The captain of **FaZe Clan** Leonardo Luis, shook Renn's hand as he patted the German's shoulder. "You have a good team," he smiled, "good luck, you'll need it."

* * *

After some interview and picture-taking from most of the gaming websites they've heard of, they finally sat down on one of the merchandise stands, exhausted. Luckily for them, some of their friends found them.

…But that ain't enough without plenty of teases from them.

"Have you look at your kill cam, Oliver?" **Dulcamarra** _(a.k.a. the artist of "Doc's Adventure")_ laughed as she smacked the French player's back hard. "It's hilarious when you really didn't expect Valkyrie fought back, and it was a lucky headshot too!"

Oliver pouted, "But I did help Artyrom's Montagne to beat his ass!"

"Yeah, you did assist me on candela and callouts," the Russian player munched on some grilled sausage **Paddy** _(a.k.a. SAU-SIEGE)_ gave him, "But you didn't get any kill, you know? Even Roxie got one."

"First, Roxie saved my ass from getting caught proning back there," He pointed his portion of grilled sausage at the British player who now munched some fish and chips from a diner across the street, "Kapkan almost caught me after he killed Renn, but the drone caught him off guard."

Roxie sipped her iced tea before turning her face to Oliver, "I didn't know that."

**Sun** _(a.k.a. SunStark)_ laughed, stopping her from sketching Lion further. "Heck, she's really new to teamwork, huh?"

"I'm literally the 3rd member after Oliver and Renn, you arsehole."

"And she's monitoring us just to stop us for exploiting some characters." Beau threw his now-empty pizza box to the nearest trashcan, "as expected from the official exploit hunter Ubisoft hired."

"Remember the first time Clash glitch was discovered?" Renn gulped down his water bottle, chucking it to the trash when it's empty. "She threatened us to not play as her until devs fixed it or she'll out from the team for good. Meanwhile, she helped the official devs to fix Clash up, but so far not yet."

"Sad indeed," **Dulcamarra** commented, munching her pop tarts, "many people exploited the glitch so much, the devs even have to shut down Clash, deployable shield, and claymores."

"Because of her work, Lion glitch got fixed right away even before known to the public." Said Oliver with his signature smirk, making both **Dulcamarra** and **Sun** perked up. "Gee, if I were those people who like Lion's character, I'll thank them many times," His smirk began to widen, "right, **Dulca** and **Sun**?"

Their reaction was priceless, really. **Paddy** laughed out loud as both of them hugged the British player with countless "thanks" to her. Roxie flustered a lot until she begged Artyrom to make them stop, which he did by pushing them away. All of them were having some good laughs, assuming that everything will be fine from now.

Little did they know, Roxie's laptop beeping softly inside their cottage.

* * *

"What do you mean **Kantoraketti** ain't good enough, _arschloch__**[7]**_?!"

"You told me **JoyStiCK** isn't that good, _blyat__**[8]**_!"

The yelling match between Renn _(fan of __**Kantoraketti**__ from __**G2**__)_ and Artyrom _(fan of __**JoyStiCK**__ from __**Empire**__)_ heated up, while Oliver watching over the grill and Roxie chatting with Beau. Barbecuing in the middle of Canada's winter was never a good idea, until Artyrom and Beau showing up from outside, hands full of raw meat cutlets and plenty of seasonings. Fortunately, the cottage they've rented have their own backyard barbecue area.

"Oh, you guys haven't seen my new laptop yet?" Roxie's loud, excited voice stopped the yelling match, as the German and the Russian finally looked at the source of the voice. She rushed inside for a moment and back outside with her favorite laptop bag. Carefully, she brought out the content and turned it on. "I got as a reward from Ubisoft because I reported and fixed many glitches in the game." She took out her gaming mouse from the bag and connected it. "I mean, the graphics were insane and even the operators look so real! Even though I played in many various servers, but the ping is as stable as the others!"

All of those statements picked the Italian's interest. "Can I play Terrorist Hunt there?" He asked.

"Of course you can!" She shoved the laptop and the mouse to the front of Beau's table location, the screen showing up the animation of Operation Burnt Horizon. "Here you go, coach!"

The first thing the Italian saw was the account, set up as **RealLife**, making him chuckled. "You had some existential crisis, _principessa__**[9]**_?"

She pouted after hearing the Italian's words. "Hey, I can't log out from that bloody account, okay? The devs said the account was permanently set in that."

He continued to chuckle as he loaded the Terrorist Hunt solo. Picking up Maverick, he checked the loadouts and surprised to see the exact one, except the skin. "Heck, you like my loadouts so much, don't you?"

"I don't know the best loadouts for him, so I copied yours."

Ignoring the British player, Beau jumped into Bomb mode of Terrorist Hunt – realistic at the infamous smoky Bartlett map. With experience on his pocket, he executed the CPU – controlled terrorists easily and planted the defuser, earning the win.

"Heya, did the meat got burned, Oliver?" Renn peeked out to the French player, only to be face-to-face with mouth-watering juicy steak and charred veggies salad brought by him. He shook his head, making the German player slightly panic. "So…what's burning right now?"

Both of them turned into the rest of them as gathered themselves into Beau's playing scene. A slight sight of smoke from Roxie's laptop raised the French player's mental alarm. "Roxie, please say you have at least a cooler on the laptop."

"I have one, for fuck's sake." Her gaze hasn't averted from the screen.

"Yeah…I have bad news for you…" Oliver shut out the gas from the barbecue and threw them out into the pile of snow. Took out the flame extinguisher from the nearest wall, he pulled the safety pin and pointed the hose at the laptop. "Get out. _dépêcher__**[10]**_."

But before he could react, Beau threw the laptop to the snow pile behind them as soon as he felt the laptop's heat gotten intense, landing beside the gas can. The laptop's cooler, now with visible smoke came out of it, began to melt the snow. Renn and the others ran inside their cottage, locking the door and stay as far as they can from it. Oddly enough, the smoke has gotten even thicker, but there's no fire.

Renn began to panic and Oliver tried to calm him down, while Roxie mourned about her laptop. Beau helped Oliver a few seconds after the German's breakdown, while Artyrom tried to cheer the British player. The situation just getting worse as they heard the sound of their backyard door gently knocked, making the German's hyperventilate even louder.

Trying to defuse the situation, Oliver put Renn under Beau's care and walked towards the door, peeking from outside through the peeking hole. There were plenty of voices outside and multiple sounds of boots crunching the snow. As he peeked the hole, all of the people wearing… military uniforms? And it's not just any military uniform, because those people triggered his artist's sense.

_Are these people cosplayers?_ He thought while he opened the door, revealing a man with black FBI SWAT uniform complete with a black vest, combat boots, and American flag emblem stitched onto the right side. His messy black with few strands of grayish hair and his dark grey eyes staring directly at the French player, making him nervous.

"Uhh, sorry about the explosion, _monsieur__**[11]**_…" He said, slowly glancing at the rest of his team, "We can give you some compensation for the damage of the backyard, but please don't kick us ou-"

"Ah, that's not what we're here for, sir." The man cut before he finished his sentence with hints of southern accent in every word he said. "We currently need a place to stay momentarily because of...stuff, can you let us stay for a bit?"

Oliver froze in place after hearing that voice. That man's voice is too familiar for him, as he heard that every time he plays R6S as Thermite. He even looks like the cutscenes version from Operation Outbreak, which both he and Renn agreed as the best season ever.

He screeched out loud before fainted.

* * *

[1] German for "asshole"

[2] German for "shitty"

[3] (Pronounced: padla) Russian for "asshole"

[4] (Pronounced tovarishch) Russian for "comrade"

[5] French for "shit"

[6] French for "slowpoke"

[7] German for "asshole"

[8] Russian for "fucker"

[9] Italian for "princess"

[10] French for "hurry up"

[11] French for "mister"

* * *

**Edit: fixed spelling error.**


	2. Pt2(1-2):We See, We Plan, We're Hopeless

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, I need to split my time wisely from now on. **

****The only thing I've owned in this story is ****NTarTK**** themselves. The rest? Ubisoft and R6S communities themselves (Pro-league teams, artists, etc). ****_****Dulcamarra let me to put her in my mediocre story, so I'll be wild in the next part.****_

**If this story offended you, please message me.**

**Thanks for listening.**

* * *

The French's screech sent a warning to the rest of them as the German player ran to his partner and covered him behind his back. Oliver knew his duo's afraid of whoever at the back door, but at least he tried to face the man with a stern face.

Keyword, "tried".

"Get away from my vice, _fremder__**[1]**_! He yelled at the man, his hand squeezed the French's gently. "He's still _junge__**[2]**_, you can't just scare him like that!"

Renn's choices of words irked him so much, he squeezed the German player's hand twice as hard. "_Merde__**[3]**_, I'm not a kid, Renn." He kept his voice as calm as possible while his hand kept squeezing, now thrice as hard, making the owner of the hand winced in pain. "I'm 2 years younger than you, so please don't even mention it, _le capitaine__**[4]**_?"

"S-said the one with capslock as a part of key bindings, you psychopath!"

"Listen here, you incompetent Doc main!"

"Said the one who always gives the plates late!"

"Okay, you crossed the line, non-Bandit counter!"

"That's the limit, you EMP waster!"

As a result, the stranger and all of his friends watched as their debate getting heated up. Before the situations getting out of hand, Beau and Artyrom pulled them apart and shoved them into their bedroom with mourn-free Roxie. As they finally closed the door, the man stared at him with worried look plastered on his face. "Ah, sorry for keeping you all waiting," the Italian player said, clearing his throat, "Canada's winter is really cold, you're probably freezing out there. Get in!"

The man backed down for a bit to tell his friends before he got in with all of the people outside. With a total of 20 people, including the man, Beau huffed in relief since the cottage is big enough for all of them _(which is odd because they're the only one that got reserved with the 30-people cottage, while the other Pro-League teams inside 10-people cottages)_. All of them gathered around the fireplace while the Russian player gave each of them a dry white towel.

"Uh…thanks for your help." The man said, drying his hair with the given towel. His backpack lying down behind him as he kept talking. "Oh, we haven't properly introduced ourselves." He offered his bandage – wrapped hand to the Italian player, "The name's Jordan, Jordan Trace. Nice to meet y'all."

Hearing his name, Beau stunned, but still accepted Jordan's handshake. Excluding Jordan, everyone in here tensed after he shook the stranger's hand. It feels really odd as if the man wasn't supposed to reveal his name.

"My name is Beau Martello, 31 years old." He said, shuffling his seating position, allowing the Russian player to sit beside him. " This man over here is Artyrom Borschevik, 30 years old." His shoulder nudged the mentioned man's one. "And those previous two boys with the girl are Renn Claude, Oliver Chaffeur, and Roxie Levya, they're in their 20's."

An older man with black uniform (_different design from Jordan's_) and a British flag stitched beside his arm, raised his voice laced with a gruff thick British accent, "What're you blokes thinking, grilling stuff in the middle of the snowy day?" He frowned, his eyes staring at Beau's blue ones. "You bollocks wanted hypothermia or something?"

The Italian player opened up his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it when he spotted Renn and Oliver sneaking out from the bedroom and quietly walked to their makeshift playroom _(it's actually a small dining room that Roxie rearranged to be much more breathable room and a projector)_. The older Brit stranger noticed him staring off somewhere else, so he leaned closer to Beau's face and snapped his fingers, successfully regained his attention.

"Ah, well, _signore__**[5]**_, we're…kinda celebrating for getting this far…" He said, unsure about his wordings. Carefully he rearranged his sentence as general as possible, "you see, we're newly-made pro-league gamers. And we made our way to the semifinal in Canada. So…we're…celebrating."

So far so good, even Artyrom impressed about his coach's ability to not lose his composure easily. Their captain and his vice didn't make any unnecessary fuss, which is strangely made his relieved. Roxie, on the other hand, didn't scold her housemates loudly. He hoped this condition can keep going without any trouble.

Keyword, again, "hoped".

"Renn, are you here?" A familiar voice echoing from outside to their current room, followed by front door loudly knocked, making Beau's voice cracked. Renn ran out to get the door, only to get tripped by Roxie's laptop bag _(Previously outside, but Artyrom moved it in when the strangers went into their cottage)_ and fell down face first. Oliver heard the German player's fall and went out to check, but stopped on his tracks when their bedroom door slowly opened, revealing Roxie, tied up with duct tape with her mouth sealed with a piece of it. Her vicious aura of vengeance didn't go unnoticed by everyone in this room, he even saw a green – haired woman from the stranger crowd silently rooting for her.

He internally screamed, making the entirety of **NTarTK** flinched in fear

* * *

"So, how's your first day on Pro-league, **Polar**?"

"It's awfully fine, I'm afraid something big will happen two days later…"

Hearing that, the young reporter named Thea chuckled while Renn pouted, facing his face into the cameraman. The German player glanced at his companion Oliver, trying so hard to get unnoticed by three of them, but failed as he got various stares from strangers.

"Renn," the French player whispered, low enough to get his partner's attention, "tell me why we're in a coffee shop again? Public places make me uncomfortable."

"Hey, it's Artyrom's idea, 'kay?" He whispered back at him, making sure his voice's as low as his partner's. "Plus, probably our coach and him got the situation under control, so no need to worry about it too much."

"I hope so…"

"**Polar** and **Seal**, are you okay?" Thea spoke up, making the duo flinched. "We have more questions to ask, is that okay?"

Both of them looked at each other, then nodded. "Fire away, miss!"

* * *

[1] German for "stranger"

[2] German for "boy"

[3] French for "shit"

[4] French for "captain"

[5] Italian for "sir"

* * *

**Edit: Fixed typos.**


	3. AN Reference1

_**I'm sorry, this isn't an update, but hear me out.**_

_**I have 2 news for Pt.2-2's fate. each of them is good and bad news.**_

_**Good news: The story has already done halfway. This part is gonna be the part when Artyrom Borschevik will be explaining about R6S and their E-Sports, with a slight backstory from him and Roxie Levya.**_

_**Bad news: I lost my reference book for the backstories and the rest of my story. Even though I can just rely on my memories about the story's structures, It'll be not as accurate as in the book.**_

_**So yeah, I screwed up so bad.**_

_**But, I decided to rewrite the reference book with some newer information I've yet to implement them into my book.**_

**Just for my own reminder (and also for your reference to NTarTK's next match against Nora-Rengo), here are some of NTarTK's play-styles/habits:**

**\- Renn "Polar" Claude (Thatcher/Finka, Doc/Mute)**

**He's not really a fragger, but often snatched more kills than Artyrom. He always acts as support to his teammates. His callouts are difficult to understand by Artyrom and Beau. But strangely enough, Oliver and Roxie can understand his callouts as clear as glass.**

**\- Oliver "Seal" Chaffeur (Thermite/Ying, Rook/Frost)**

**Most of the players probably thought he got an existential crisis for his play-style, but his ability to find bizarre hiding spots and surprises many enemies with his sudden appearance out from nowhere is really his only play-style. No one can predict his hideouts, even if they have stacks of maps' blind spots.**

**\- Roxie "P1ngu" Levya (Lion/Blitz, Bandit/Tachanka)**

**As Ubisoft's official exploit hunter, she knows every weakness of various exploits. One of NTarTK's fraggers, despite her strange choices of mains. She picked some of the problematic operators to check their performances and troubles from time-to-time. ****_(and she secretly loves to trash-talk many toxic players she'd encountered in casual.)_**

**\- Beau "WFox" Martello (Glaz/Maverick, Echo/Maestro)**

**NTarTk's main eyes, aka callouts giver and camera observers. patiently observing his enemies' movements and predicts them according to their usual play-styles. Actually doing it just to keep Artyrom's arse in check. ****_("Fraggers often clueless, so I need to keep an eye on him."-Beau)_**

**-Artyrom "Husky" Borschevik (Montagne/Fuze, Ela/Jager)**

**NTarTK's Ace and one of the fraggers. He got tired from dying too quick as an attacker, so Beau suggested shield and 3-armored operators, in which he gladly took that offer. He'd often make himself as bait for the enemies so Beau can snipes them easily. In defense, however, he'll roam and frag without mercy.**

**Thank you for your attention.**


End file.
